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Mikey, my love, I'm glad to see you... but yesterday I told you that I can't anymore... we will love each other this last month before the award is announced, and then you hit me again... let's not soften it is cruel... Sitel around her clap their hands , leaning forward to say something, and she will laugh in response... because you will be waiting for the machine and your hand is cradled on her hip... you will sculpt the word about how funny you drink a SIP of wine and will be blowed in different directions... not my... mixed up with someone else's face... because you said so... I won't be able to see it... you may not be able to cancel... I believe you, but don't believe anyone else is doing to you... and you... you are your own believe?.. believe you can and that you're stronger than great uncles?.. which can manipulate the whole world, podrezali in unison, butt the hoopoe?.. if you do not like, you know what will happen next... I love you, but I'd rather be a blood to spit and double up in pain, yearning for you, what will survive it all again... or you give me the word, or never again...

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